Make over

The professional snapping, I snap occasionally because I am still learning. Although she knows I am good, she refused to tell me because the models only want her to take their pictures and not me.

I took a deep breath and turned the shop's doorknob, walking inside and looking at my boss, who was talking to a model. She spotted me and I stroked my hair back shyly. She talked to the model in a way that I think she is dismissing her, to talk to me. 

I gripped the string of my bag and try to walk to my desk when I hear my name.

I walked over to her and put my head down, avoiding her gaze. Please let her not fire me, I feel like evaporating right now. 

"Why are you late?" She asked softly. Wow, this is unusual. She spoke politely for the first time. This is not a good sign. 

"I...I was stuck in traffic," I mumbled without looking at her.                      

"Let this not repeat itself. In the main, time I need your help." She said, looking at her fingers. Why am I not surprised. I look up at her.

"Jason quit this morning without telling me earlier, so I could make arrangements to hire a new photographer. He was supposed to go and take pictures at Kingston’s wedding today." She stated the Kingston’s are the most influential family in town, I heard they don’t use a car for too long because they are just too rich.  

"What do you want me to do." I inquired.

"I need you to go there, and replace him." She declared.

"Okay, I will go now, "  I replied, going to my desk to put my camera into my bag.

"Don’t tell me you are going to look like that?" she stated, looking at my clothes, and I felt embarrassed and intimidated. 

"What’s...wrong with my clothes? I'm not attending the wedding, am I?" I asked, raising a brow.

“You aren’t but you don’t expect the photographer to look like cow shit." She stated, "So I look like cow shit to her, gosh." She clapped her hands, and the make-up artists ran to us. 

"Give her a makeover and maybe let her wear a ball gown." She declared and the make-up artists dragged me to the dressing room of the models.

"Take, go and put this on." The artist said, handing me a beautiful sparkling silver ball gown with diamonds all over it, and a fur jacket. This clothing is far too expensive for me, I took it from her and she pushed me into the dressing room. 

After struggling to put on the dress, I walked out of the dressing room, wearing the dress. Although I felt uncomfortable in it, the dress was too long. All the artists fixed their eyes on me. 

"You already look great in this dress. Time for the finishing touches." Another one added. And they dragged out a chair for me to sit in front of the mirror. I sat on the chair, staring at my face in the mirror.